


Antigravity

by Reneehart



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Heavy Angst, Redemption, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Star Wars: The Force Awakens Spoilers, Violence, i'm trash, were all going to hell in a handbasket
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5798773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reneehart/pseuds/Reneehart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was a figment, nothing more than an image produced by a dying Ben Solo to salvage what is left of him, to pull him to the light. He will kill him though, Kylo Ren will smother out the last of Ben's life no matter how many times he conjures her up. </p><p>Nobody will stop him. </p><p>Nobody will save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antigravity

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing right now.
> 
> Disclaimer: The title and quotes at the top and bottom are from the song 'Antigravity' by Starset.

Antigravity  
Chapter One

'The more I fight, the more I work  
The more I dig into the dirt  
To be fed up, to be let down  
To somehow turn it all around'

'Kill him.'

Rey flinches at the unfamiliar voice, the alien echo inside the caverns in her mind as she searches quickly around her, looking for a source of the command. The command that sets her nerves on fire, that inclines her to run forward, raise her weapon high, pausing only to hear the hiss as snow evaporates immediately on the heat of the blade. 

But there is another pull within her, a softer yet sturdier one, that seems to grab onto her hands and pull back, her feet sliding as she comes to a sudden halt. Her breath forms wisps of silver clouds before her, her cheeks rosy as she blinks with sudden realization, the weight of her saber falling to her side. Kylo Ren lay before her, his black hair turned into messy and dampened curls from the inclement weather. His skin is sallow from what she could only assume was the result of terrible blood loss, his side slick with a deep maroon soaking through the thick layers of his tunic. 

Most jarring of all is the sudden division of his face, the red and puckered flesh forming a fault line from underneath his cheekbone and towards his eyebrow in a slant, cutting along his prominent nose. Flecks that at first appear to be freckles form constellations on his face, and it is only after a second of perusal that she discovers they are in fact separate burns. Little pinpricks of tarnished skin from where the heat of her saber faltered and littered like ash upon the planes of his porcelain visage. 

She swallows, taking a step back with the burden of what she had done, what she had been about to do. She had been ready to kill him, to pierce through his heart in that manner at which he himself had done to Han Solo. His father. There was a whisper in the back of her head, a firm and taunting tone that condemned him, that yearned for his blood as atonement for his crimes and his sins. He is a traitor in his own right, a killer by his own hands.

And yet, she is not. 

Her life had been one of solitude and routine, one that never strayed too far from a narrow and well worn path. She had never known adventure- had fantasized of it, and within the deepest trenches of her hearts lusted after it with a wantonness otherwise reserved. Though she imagined herself in adrenaline surging space battles, exploring the far reaches of the universe as it spread out before her begging to be claimed, she never imagined this. Never imagined her heart beat pounding so hard in her head that it was a convincing mimicry of the harsh winds as it pressed sand into the sides of her abandoned AT-AT. Her pulse thrumming and setting her body alight with passion and impulse, a fire that burned like poison in her veins as she was consumed with fury. Fury for the cowering man who lay in pain before her, his lips pinched into a tight grimace, blood slipping between the firm line. 

She never imagined that she would even consider it, taking the life of another being. A being who looked so disparaging. So pathetic and desperate, despite his former bravado. 

He wasn't just Kylo Ren, he was Ben Solo, a boy lost and consumed within the darkness, forgotten as he unraveled in a world she hadn't quite had the chance to understand yet. A boy who had been abandoned, just as she had once been. Kylo- 'No,' she corrects herself. 'Ben.'- lifts himself up further, propping up on one elbow as he fixes her with a quizzical look.

'A boy who has slaughtered thousands!' the voice returns, manic with righteous indignation and she feels her head swoon with the clamor of it. Her grip tightens on the hilt of her lightsaber, and she moves to raise it high once more, when the earth opens up below her.

The ground quakes, a tremendous surge that causes her to lose balance, sends her to her bottom as she scrambles to move away from what would surely be yet another crack in the foundation. She raises just in time, her hands pink and cold from shuffling in the snow, to see the gaping maw created from the implosion of Star Killer. There is heat radiating from it, sinister crackles from below that promise immediate demise to anyone who has the misfortune of falling in. 

With that, the decision she wasn't even aware she was grappling with is made, as she is unable to cross and running out of time. There were certainly only minutes now, and Finn was still laying unconscious where he fell. She hears the electrified swoosh as the blade diminishes, disappearing into the metal hilt. And she turns, running away from the injured Sith apprentice, from his confused yet relieved expression, wondering why she did not kill him.

A part of her wonders that as well, but she quickly stoppers that feeling, that hatred and fury and rage. There were more pressing things at the moment. Ben Solo was another thought for another day.

-xXx-

Kylo Ren lurches forward as if an invisible hand is gripping at him, grasping into the tattered black robes and into his hair, the strands frozen and falling limp into his face. He is knocked down to his knees, wincing as he falls to the hard and rigid basalt surface. His face collides with the floor and jars him, a galaxy of stars and iridescence like a kaleidoscope in his vision. He feels his teeth quiver in his jaw, hears the crack as what seems like millions of bones splinter all at once. He is unsteady now, his unattended to and injured side like a clenched fist in his torso. It burns as if he is being licked by the ghost flames of the inactive volcano he resides in. 

Somewhere within his cluttered and disoriented mind, he is aware that he needs treatment. Badly. Blood blossoms, like the petals of a rose unfurling, and he raises his head slowly, dizzily. The dais is unclear, as though covered by a gossamer veil, and he squints in an attempt to better see as the figure atop it lowers to meet his gaze. Supreme Leader Snoke is scowling at him, his thin and wrinkled lips raised in a snarl. His flesh is thin and opaque, the map of blue veins visible beneath the gaunt face, pulled taut over sharp ridges. A jagged scar burrows deep through the center of his skull, and a large chunk is missing from his hollow cheek. 

Ren swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the strained motion, and he has only a second of respite before his mind his ripped open. A strangled yell escapes his cracked lips that are coated in dried blood and he is immediately reduced to murmuring his defenses, to pleading for forgiveness and mercy as the incarnation of all things dark and insidious rips him to shreds for no purpose other than punishment. Memories are pulled from him and examined for fault while growls of derisiveness echo throughout the cavern. 

He is helpless as Snoke watches with contempt at the unfolding scene, at Rey intruding Ren's mind when his own attempts had failed, as he slices the raw energy of his lightsaber through the traitor's back and then turns his focus on the forgotten one that was once wielded by his former master. As he jerks back and away from the swift arch the weapon makes through the chilled air as it passes him and lands in the outstretched hand of Rey. It is then Snoke finally pulls up the thread of memory, grasping unto the nebulous construct, and sees Ren standing on the edge of a chasm, Rey bending away from him in what should have been a perilous trap. What should have been her end. There is a collision of heat and colors between them, a dark violet hue radiating from their crossed sabers, the lights mirrored in their narrowed eyes. 

“You need a teacher!” he proposes, an earnestness in his gaze that causes Snoke to grip into his hand, a grip so tight he would have shed blood from his nails digging into the tender flesh had he not been something beyond the constraints of a corporeal form. “I can show you the ways of the Force!”

He watches for only a little longer before he withdraws, his withered lips curling into a wicked grin. “You took a girl instead of a droid...a girl who lured the Resistance right to our very base! A scavenger with no prior training who should have been just another casualty!” His voice booms, not just throughout the room carved of stone, but in Kylo's head as well, and he flinches as it squeezes his temples, the pressure behind his eyeballs causing him to tightly shut them. He awaits for more rage, for more punishment. There is little he can do to defend himself, little hope he has in winning against the ethereal monstrosity. His very own spine could be ripped out without so much as the curl of a tapered finger, and so he does his best to look little, to look contrite and forlorn. 

Seconds drag in silence, and he hears what sounds like General Hux shifting uncomfortably, his own labored breathing. It becomes too much, the build up in his chest, the tight winding of nerves as he awaits for whatever Snoke has planned for him, and he raises his head, chancing a look at the Sith.

But he is no longer looking at him, disregarding him as he instead focuses on Hux. “It would appear that if Ren is to continue working for our cause, he is going to need far more training. He has become distracted and tempted, and I will not stand for it. I will not allow a traitor to walk among us, to be coaxed to the light at the beck and call of scavenger scum.” 

He is shaking his head before he can stop himself, speaking in a voice that is surprisingly strong even to him. “I will not be seduced! I merely thought to recruit-”

His throat constricts tightly, and he is suddenly brought to a kneeling position, his knees lock to the floor as he grabs at his neck, attempting to pull away invisible hands. 

“Silence!” Snoke commands. Ren nods, unable to speak as the grip loosens and he breathes in air greedily, his bruised throat stinging. 

Turning once more to General Hux, he inclines his head, tapping a finger thoughtfully to his chin. “Isolation will do. For however long it takes. Take him to your medics and then deposit him in a meditation cell. He is to have no contact outside from his meal trays being delivered. After, you are to return to me. There are other matters I wish to discuss...”

Hux sighs, seeming relieved that he is emerging relatively unscathed in the moment. “Of course. I believe it for the best that he not continue to impede our progress with his foolishness.”

“Indeed,” Snoke agrees in a far off voice, reclining back in the makeshift throne. “It is my hope that you will be reminded of what you are, Ren. And that you will not forget your rightful place in the Force. If you fail to do so, I will have no other choice than to remove you from your post.” The threat is hidden, though not very well, and he widens his eyes at the promise of his death.

“Yes, Master. I will not disappoint you. Thank you for the opportunity to prove myself to you.” He is weak and pathetic, and he is painfully aware of it. He is groveling at the feet of a greater power, at the mercy of something more than a man but still less than a human. This is not what he envisioned, not what he had turned to the Dark Side for. He was meant to be the leader of the First Order, he was meant to be the one inspiring fear and pain, not receiving it. He was meant to be a carnivore stalking the top of the hierarchy, not something to limp around the bottom wrung and be tossed about against his volition. Anger stirs within him as he feels his dignity crumple, and he startles at the deep chuckle that reverberates in his mind. 

“Make certain you do, Ren.” Snoke's voice thins, like steam rising from the chaotic surface of boiled water. He disappears, his effigy crackling and fizzing as only his voice remains, resonating in its all consuming way. “Make certain you do.”

-xXx-

Rey cannot sleep, hasn't been able to for a near week now. Each time she feels herself slipping further and further into slumber, she is startled awake by fear and anger that sits coiled like a viper ready to strike. Meditation makes no difference, as any form of serenity that she achieves is shattered as she is suddenly thrust back into the metal interrogation chair. Or standing on the snow laden ground, the fractured and unsteady glow of Kylo Ren's lightsaber acting as a beacon of both darkness and light. 

She feels her meager grasp on the Force slipping as each day pass, as her lids grow heavy with exhaustion. And it does not take long for Master Luke to notice, for him to join her in the modest shack she has taken residence in. 

They sit opposite each other, with Rey slouched on her pallet and thin mattress, looking at the weary and aging face of a man she once thought only a myth. 

“You need sleep, Rey. And this should help- with practice and over time,” he begins, offering her what he hopes is an encouraging smile. She nods, dutifully.

“What do I need to do...? Meditating doesn't work-”

He raises a hand, effectively quieting her endless stream of concerns and questions. “This is not meditating. Not quite. Rey, you know little of the Force but you wield much of it. A dangerous combination,” he starts, chewing his lip in thought. “To be a Jedi, you will need to learn to forgive, and to embrace empathy and compassion. You have indulged too freely in hatred and revenge, and for that, you are restless and can't find peace.”

She frowned, her shoulders slumping before she quickly rectifies her posture. “I haven't indulged in any of that though.” There is a spark of resentment at having even been accused of such, and Luke leans back as though sensing this, raising a brow. 

“Before you came here, you had fought against Kylo Ren,” he mentions after a moment, his eyes darting away at the name that had hitherto gone unspoken between them. Instead, the phantom memory of Ben Solo sat between them, encompassing the space as they moved around him. 

Rey swallows, looking away as well as she recalls her final moments on Star Killer base, where she had almost taken the life for one in place of another. She knew now, despite her better want, that the voice calling on her to kill him had been a call from the Dark Side. That she had very nearly practiced the same sin she despised Kylo Ren for, though she tried to justify her actions and almost actions. 

“So what am I to do then?”

He finally returns his gaze to her. “You must restore balance within yourself and make amends. The Force, while intangible, requires healing when it is damaged. And that's what you are to do. I will help to guide you into a meditative state, where you will be presented with a manifestation.”

Her brows knitted as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Manifestation? Of what? And how will I know what to do?”

“You will know,” he assured her, shuffling so that he was closer to her now. “Lie back now, and close your eyes.” 

She trusts him, and so she does as he tells her to, lying straight with her hands clasped over her chest as she focuses on her breathing, counting with each inhale and exhale. One...two...three...exhale...one...two...three...inhale...

It is as if she is making herself nothing, giving herself entirely to the Force that weaves around her, that fills her lungs and flows through her veins. She is breathing in not air nor oxygen, but the universe in its entirety. The stars and the comets and the debris, the routine rotation as planets spin on their axis, the bedlam as somewhere a sun collapses and consumes all in its path of self-immolation. She is drifting and floating, a soft nudge in her navel leading her away and into the heavens that have yet to be discovered despite the rest of the world being mapped out. 

She does not know how long she is suspended for, but she slowly opens her eyes when she feels something sturdy beneath her feet. Left behind is the bare walls to her living quarters, replaced instead with a stark white metal sheets, with chrome inlays that form triangles alternating along the walls. She quirks a brow, balls her fist as she nods her head. 'It's a manifestation,' she says to herself. 'It's just like a dream, nothing more.'

“You,” she hears someone whisper, and she spins around to stare into the unmasked face of Kylo Ren. She takes several unsteady steps back, reaching at her side for a weapon that is not there. 

'It's not there because this isn't real,' a voice within her reassures, and she urges herself to breathe, to allow her posture to become less strict and rigid. The change in composure does not go unnoticed by Ren, who scoffs at her attempt to seem less frightened, less intimidated. He stands, and she only straightens her spine, raising higher on the balls of her feet to make their height difference seem less vast.

He is not wearing the outfit she had last seen him in, the thick black cape and cowl. Instead, he is wearing only a simple gray tunic and a pair of black slacks, a look that seems too understated, too uniform for a man as power hungry as he. For a man who seeks to be noticed and unique among his peers. He looks much smaller as well, less bulky than she had thought, and she can't help but to cock her head to the side. He looked so much more...human. So much more like the Ben Solo that Han and Leia had raised until they sent him away, she was sure. 

“I wish to see no more of you!” he says suddenly, turning away from her and returning to a mattress with a thin blanket atop it. He sits down, folding his legs in and resting his hands on his knees in a look of meditation. 

She is stunned, blinking away her confusion at having him think he could dismiss her. She purses her lips, hoping that the intuition that Master Luke would arise within her soon, and guide her in the correct path. She did not know what to do, despite his firm insistence that she would. 

“I'm not going anywhere,” she hears herself say, a slight tremble to her words. “I was brought here for a reason.”

He does not move from his position, his face focused and relaxed. “If that reason is to seduce me to the Light it will not work. I will not bend to any temptations, and your attempt is futile,” he says, a finality to his voice. He does not open his eyes to look at her, and she takes the opportunity to look at the scar she had carved into his narrow face. 

It is slim, and the skin bunching like white chords has become less inflamed over time, and it turns his otherwise unremarkable face into a more sinister one. If not for the reminder of her actions, she would have gladly turned away and disappeared from this moment, traversing back through the galaxies to return home. But she was brought here to make amends, least she give into the darkness, and so she sighs, sitting down opposite him. 

He tenses, the tendons and muscles visible in his hand as they turn into fists speaks what he does not say: he is angered by her refusal to leave. The bridge between his eyebrows wrinkles in thought, and he purses his lips, but is otherwise silence, doing his best to ignore Rey's presence even as the air ignites between them. Like a match in a powder keg, the tempers rise and clash. She feels it as well, the beckoning towards the other, as if their cores are entwining and pulling onto the other, invisible fingers locking together. A humming sound- low at first but growing gradually louder with each second, fills her head, and she shakes her chin as though she can dislodge the source of it with enough exertion. 

It is unsettling, the snapping energy of the air surrounding her, and she closes her eyes for a moment to will it to calm so that it is bearable, to make more clear her purpose in being here. She is to seek peace for herself, must come to terms with the unyielding waves of hatred and fear that threatens to drown her when she thinks to Kylo Ren. But how? Surely the Force does not expect her to talk it out with an effigy, to clap her hands together and wash herself away of all the pain simply because they had an imaginary heart to heart? She resists the urge to snort, knowing that that is perhaps precisely what she is to do. It would appear the concept of the Force was more sentient than she thought, and had a firm grasp on irony. 

Her breathing has settled, and she is centered enough from her meditation that the buzzing sound in her head has diminished, replaced instead by the gentle thump of her heartbeat. 'Two heartbeats,' she notes, opening her eyes. 

Ren is looking at her, and she reels from the intensity of his dark gaze, the piercing quality to them sending a shudder through her. They are black holes, swallowing entire galaxies and every source of light in their wake, threatening to consume her as well. 

“Why won't you leave?” he whispers, though it is more to himself than her.

“Why did you do it?” she asks, the words leaving her lips before she is even aware of it. 

He swallows hard, his lips twitching with the harshness in her words, at the judgment below the surface. For a moment, she thinks he is going to break into wretched sobs, his shoulders quivering in thought and his head bowing. But then he suddenly stands, moving with a speed that she was not prepared for, falling back as she tries to move away from him.

He is grinning, yet it is hollow and not quite reaching his eyes, the motion creating stark compresses in his angular face. Half moons frame his lips as they twist into a snarl, and he says in a too calm voice, “Because I had to.”

He reaches out, fingertips resting on the curve of her cheek, and she jerks away from him, skewing her eyes shut tight. There is a sudden and sharp pull from her navel that seems to careen her to the side, and her hands reach out to brace herself from any impact, nausea welling within her as she is struck with vertigo. 

She hears a yelp to her side as she finds purchase, her fingers clutching tight onto something soft. “Rey!” a voice yells above the clamor, the roar of waves crashing onto the jagged edge of a cliff and rain pelting down as the sky seemed to fall from its tenuous place above. “Rey!”

She jumps into a sitting position, panting as she realizes that she is no longer in the small room with Ren. Her nails are digging deep into Luke's chest, and she pulls away from him at the realization, embarrassed by her frantic actions. 

Though her master is unconcerned in the least by it, moving closer to wrap a steadying arm around her shoulders. “It was not real, Rey, you were with me the whole time- you did not move from this spot,” he states, and she nods, latching onto the one phrase and turning it over and over within her mind.

'It was not real, it was not real.'

But the ghost of a touch on her cheek remains, the barest brush of his fingertips leaving lasting imprints on her skin that felt hotter than the rest of her.

-xXx-

She is gone, and Ren sighs, though he is not certain if it is in relief or despair. He is lonely, an overwhelming need to interact, to touch and be touched sinking into him like never before it. He is at a height of sensory deprivation, with no contact to a world except for when he receives his meals which are never on a schedule. The deliveries are erratic, and he knows this though he does not quite remember how he does. He does not sleep for longer than an hour at a time, and the breaks in his perfectly managed composure are beginning to turn into large fissures. It is what Snoke wants of him, to feel so utterly helpless and alone and unstable. He wants to break him so that he can put him back together to his own liking. 

And it was going so well before she came. He was starting to give in, to crack and shatter with the neediness he felt for some sort of consistency, to welcome the dark side like a wool blanket on a cold day if it meant that he would be released from the prison. Only to forget it all when she appeared with a crack, the familiar and muffled pull to the light burning within him. 

He yells out to the empty room, punching into the wall hard enough that it sends shock waves screaming down the length of his arm. He pulls back and then punches it once more, repeating the process until smears of red stain the starkness of the walls, his knuckles torn and bloodied. He tries to remember why he is here, why he allowed his spine to bend in a bow at Snoke's feet in the first place. Pain fuels him, anger nourishes him.

She was a figment, nothing more than an image produced by a dying Ben Solo to salvage what is left of him, to pull him to the light. He will kill him though, Kylo Ren will smother out the last of Ben's life no matter how many times he conjures her up. 

Nobody will stop him. 

Nobody will save him.  
'But then fate knocks me to my knees  
And sets new heights beyond my reach  
Below the earth, below concrete  
The whole world shackled to my feet'

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Follow me on tumblr at ReneeHartBlog for more Reylo, Harry Potter, and any answers to questions as that is where I spend a majority of my life.


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